


To Save a Dark-Winged Angel

by LukeytheArtist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Abuse, Dumbledore Bashing, Eventual Dark Harry, Evil Dumbledore, Good Severus Snape, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Post-Order of the Phoenix AU, Rape, Self-Harm, Semi-Sane Voldemort, Vomiting, or at least dark grey harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-04-20 23:35:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14271993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LukeytheArtist/pseuds/LukeytheArtist
Summary: Voldemort was shocked at what he saw in the Golden Boy's head. So he decided to do something. So he could be the one to hurt him of course. Definitely.





	1. Feelings and Concerns

**Author's Note:**

> Parselmouth: -blahblah-

Potter would be his. He would find him and protect him. Though the boy was a permanent thorn in his side, he would not kill him. He was his last horcrux. He could not allow the boy to come to harm, from his hand or not. Not anymore. 

Voldemort was leaning back in his chair, nail tapping on the desk in a constant rhythm. He could not shake how very similar yet starkly _different_ and more horrid a childhood Harry was having compared to his. He couldn’t get the images of abuse to leave his mind, no amount of Occluding was helping either. He had to get his horcrux out of his relatives hands and safe with him, close to him, in his-

He stood so fast he startled Nagini, he dearest friend, awake. Since when did he care for the boy’s safety, and since when did he want to _coddle him_? The boy had been a thorn in his side for so long. If anything all he should only want to keep the boy secure enough to keep himself alive possibly test new spells on him, now though that thought made a strange feeling settle in the pit of his stomach, and all he wanted was the boy living, not surviving. 

-Master- Voldemort turned sharply to look at his familiar, -You’re thinking far to loudly, and you woke me up, but if it is of any help to you I would never personally deny myself my mate.- He spluttered, but before he could get a word out Nagini spoke again, -It is obvious that is what he is! We both know he’s powerful, you marked him as your equal the night and, based on what I could interpret from you racing thoughts, he isn’t living only surviving. Very much like yourself, might I add.- Voldemort sighed.

-I suppose it could just be a likeness I see between us that is making me want to protect him. That and the horcrux.- The snake shook her head and slithered towards him. 

-Whatever you say, Tom.- She said as she made her way to settle on his shoulders. He glared at her, but let the subject drop. He needed to do something to save Harry and soon, if what he saw in the boy’s head was true. Unsure of who else to go to, he made his way to Severus’s potion lab. The times where he had to check on the man were the only times he wished head quarters was smaller. He put that thought to the back of his head as he knocked on the Potion Masters door.

“Whoever you are, conceal you magic before you enter.” He called. He must have been completing the potions he’d asked for, both of which being highly reactive to magic. He conceal his magic carefully before entering. He saw Severus leaning over a cauldron, carefully adding another ingredient. Once it was done, he immediately turned his back to him and continued. From what he could see of what potion it was, it was a very delicate stage, so the Dark Lord busied himself with looking at the other 5 potions on stasis. They all looked near completion, 3 healing potions that were all different colours and obviously still in the testing phase, and 2 other versions of a kind of controlling potion that should work similar to how the Imperious curse does without being traceable. He felt the magic shift in the room and heard a sharp intake of breath.

“My Lord! I apologize, I was not able to leave that potion without it-” He bowed low

“It is quite alright, Severus, I do not want those potions made incorrectly. It would be disastrous.” Severus nodded. “How long before they will be ready?” 

“I do not have an exact date yet, my Lord, but I will ensure it is soon and that they are brewed correctly.”

“That is quite alright, Severus. Just ensure they are done to the right standard.” The man nodded, “As for why I am here in the first place, I must ask what you know about Harry Potter’s current living situation.” Severus looked confused for all of a second before answering.

“From what I am told, he lives like a prince, is given everything he asks for on a silver platter and is far to arrogant a brat to act like he doesn’t.” Severus sneered, his hate obvious. He nearly lost his composure, but managed to conceal his anger at the snide, hate filled comment. He had no idea why it bothered him but, Gods above, did it bother him.

“And do you know where he currently resides?” 

“I do not, my Lord. It is under Fidelius and I do not know the Secret Keeper. I apologize, my Lord.” Voldemort lifted his hand to silence him.

“No matter, no matter. I will need you to find out where he is. At least the general area, is that understood?”

“Yes, my Lord.” The potions master bowed low. He nodded and swept from the room, waiting to hear the door close before letting his magic free. Before he could get far, however, Severus appeared out from behind the door. “I may know the area he is, actually.”

“Then speak, Severus.” The man nodded, leaving the room.

“Albus has not told me explicitly, but I believe he lives somewhere in Surrey, based on what others in the Order have let slip. He believes me deaf, I suppose.” Voldemort allowed himself to smirk. “I may be able to follow one of the chickens to the Apparition point outside of the wards. It may take some time, however, as not many, if any, trust me enough to allow me to join them in patrols. I do believe Dumbledore plans to have him stay the last week with the Weasley clan.” He nodded. 

“If you can, find a way to approach him. I doubt he’s been in anything like the household you explained, nor do i think he’s has been told as much as you think about his place in the war. I believe it would be more beneficial if we can coerce him to my side, rather than kill him.” Severus nodded,

He had finally come to the conclusion that the only reason he cared was because he could feel the same pain from his own past in the young man. Nothing more. By his side, his blasted familiar let out a snake laugh.

-Fucking snake…- He muttered, earning a offended hiss. He snorted slightly before continuing on his way to his office, putting his Potter-shaped problem to the back of his mind. He had a meeting to prepare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoy this! 
> 
> I've decided that im gonna write a few chaptered fics at once so that there's new stuff more often. Heirs and Scions is still being written, but im having trouble writing it at the moment while school is a thing, so have this! A slightly cliche trope that i wanted to write just because. 
> 
> Let me know if i need to improve anything! (I've never written things from Volde's PoV; let me know if it need improvement :3 )


	2. Visions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort dreams of, and stresses over, the boy he's hated for so long. He tries to make sense over what he has seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR RAPE/VIOLENCE WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER. Please be carful if you're triggered by these things!

The meeting was… well, it was pointless in the end. Not one of his Death Eaters had managed to do _anything_ useful, and the reports of various inane work-related stories he had heard twisted in a way that sounded formal had just about killed him with boredom, horcruxes be damned! As soon as the reports were over, he’d sent his Death Eaters away, his lower ranks scampering and Inner Circle at _least_ having some sort of grace, and made a bee-line for his manor and personal quarters.

He stood under the shower spray for a long while, Nagini hissing at him from where she soaked in the bathtub, trying to rid himself of the annoying frustration that came with dealing with all of his members at once. Once that had washed away, however, a bone deep exhaustion set in, as well as the fascination with Potter making a return. He sighed, annoyed at his bloody wandering mind and shut off the water. He moved to take Nagini from the tub, but the half shed snake hissed and went to strike at him if he tried, so he left her be. 

Not bothering to clothe himself, he let himself relax into bed. Nagini finally made her appearance and begged Voldemort to help her shed, which he did with little fuss. He barely paid her much attention, however, which she noticed. She turned to him and bumped her nose against his hand.

-Sleep, Master. You must have had a long, confusing day. I can handle this alone.- He glared down at the snake and didn’t move. -Please, Tom.- He sighed.

-Alright…- He laid back down, only to stare at the ceiling for another 2 hours, thinking on the quick flashes and images of abuse he’d seen in the boy’s mind not even 2 days prior. He turned onto his side, thinking on the prophecy. He wondered if the part of the prophecy he knew was to be taken literally, what with him being his equal. It also occurred to him how strange it was that he heard of the prophecy. Who does an interview in a pub? But the existence of said prophecy had spurred him into terror. 

He shut his eyes as he felt Nagini curl up near him, trying to calm his speeding thoughts. He knew he’d focus on it tomorrow, but he just could not silence his brain… Why was he so suddenly obsessed with Harry? And what did it matter? The boy was not his problem beyond his annoying nature of not dying. And there was the stupid reluctance and repulsion of considering the boys death! 

-Shh..- Came a sleepy hiss. He reached out and pet his familiars head, the horcrux that resided with her lulling him, finally, to sleep. 

—————————————————

When he opened his eyes, he knew he wasn’t in his own bed. Nor his mansion. The next was that Nagini was nowhere to be found, and then that he couldn’t move. He was suddenly jerked out of his body, hovering above what he assumed was… Potter. 

_I must be dreaming._ He thought, looking down at the boy’s sleeping form. It was similar to his time as a wraith, being like this, but far less painful thank the Gods. _This should still be impossible._ He tried to float closer but was interrupted by the door slamming open. 

“BOY!” Who the fuck was this whale-like man and why in God’s holy name was he shouting at the boy like he’d just murdered his puppy? Potter flinched viciously, like he just been shot by a muggle gun. He turned fast to look up at the man. “How DARE you ruin my sons birthday! Petunia spent hours fussing and making sure it all went well, only to have YOU RUIN IT!” Voldemort had a feeling Harry had been the one doing all the work. The man began advancing on him. 

“P-Please, I-I… I didn’t realize she’d- I didn’t-” The loud slap on skin-on-skin contact rang through the tiny room. 

“DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK WHILE I AM, FREAK!” Another loud thump. Voldemort flinched. the scene reminded him far too much of his own childhood against the orphanage bullies and staff alike not to. A third hit and the boy fell to the floor. He was kicked in the stomach and, at this point, Voldemort wasn’t paying attention to what the whale was saying. 

He heard the clinking of a belt coming of, then the sharp _Crack!_ of it coming down against flesh. He heard a yelp of pain and wished it could have been music to his ears, but it wasn’t. He could barely stand hearing it. He only turned back when he heard more rustling.

“P-Please, sir, I didn’t mean to! Please d-don’t, plea-” The begging was cut short as he was kicked in the stomach again, making both of them gag. 

“Don’t you dare make a mess. And if I hear one more sound outta you, you’re gonna get it, freak.” Voldemort looked at the man, and gagged hard. “Now, you know the drill. On your knees.” Harry didn’t move, which earned him another kick to the gut before he was pulled on to his knees and his far to loose pants ripped off. 

He turned away when he heard the boy scream, trying to will himself to wake up so he didn’t vomit in his sleep. It was only when he heard the slap of skin on skin that he was able to. 

—————————————————

Voldemort woke with a start, shocking Nagini awake too, and was barely able to pull himself over the side of his bed before losing the contents of his stomach. He was panting by the time he was able to gather himself. He may torture, murder and commit other heinous acts, but he could never, and would never, condone such a thing as rape. It was disgusting. 

-Master! Are you alright?!- Nagini hissed, looking as frantic as a snake could. 

-I’ll be fine, but… We may have to intervene in Potter’s life, based on what I’ve just seen.- He swallowed thickly, the images coming back to him. This was far worse than he thought it was. He would have to employ Severus’s usefulness once more. He turned over, after cleaning up the mess beside his bed, and pet his familiar’s head as he explained what he had just been subject to. He wished he hadn’t had to see any of it, honestly. At least he knew he now had a legitimate reason to worry for the boy. 

This connection they had and the horcrux's influence must have had something to do with his sudden concern for Harry, the boy was likely subconsciously reaching out to him or something like that. He was far too tired to think hard on it, but he didn’t have any other _possible_ reason he would worry for the boy like some teenage schoolgirl. Laid on his back, Nagini slithering onto his chest to provide some comfort and an actor to reality, and studied the ceiling again. He waved his hand and checked the time. 

“2am… fantastic.” He sighed, -I suppose I should try to sleep more…-

-That would be wise, Master.- He smiled at his dear friends concern. He let his eyes slip shut as his exhaustion hit him like a brick before Morpheus pulled him to sleep again.

—————————————————

He growled in frustration as he found himself in Harry’s room. _Again_. This time, though, he knew the boy was awake. He assumed it was the same night as before, hoping he was seeing only seeing a memory. He heard the boy sobbing as quietly as possible. He was still bare from the waist down, but he now saw the presence of blood on his thin sheet and the inside of his legs. It took all of his will power not to reach out to him. 

There was a sudden flurry of movement. The boy walked quickly over to a loose floorboard and pulled it up, taking out what looked like a ball of tissues. He unwrapped them hastily, leaving them about the scuffed up floor. He saw something small in his hands, possibly metal. He walked back to the bed and he saw the sheer amount of scars marring his thin form. He looked paler than he was, too. He wished he could have realised how long the obvious abuse was going on that night in the Ministry atrium. 

Harry looked at his shoulder first, than his lower stomach. Finally his eyes settled on his forearm, and many straight slightly raise scars could be seen. Voldemort’s eyes bulged. The boy was..

“This is all my fault. Sirius would be dead if I hadn’t been so stupid… No one would have gotten hurt… _They_ ,’ He hissed out that word like it was a curse, “Wouldn't have to deal with my freakishness…” He had tears streaming down his face now, “I’m even an inconvenience to the _Dark Lord_. I really and a waste…” His snow-white owl began tapping slightly against the window attempting to get his attention and failing. He raised his hand and Voldemort saw a small razor blade between his fingers.

Harry stayed like this for some time, like he was contemplating something before he said something that truly terrified the Dark Lord. 

“Not yet. I’ll stick around a little while longer. Maybe someone else will kill me…” He brought the small, sharp blade down against his skin and move it along his arm. He smiled sadly as blood bubbled up, and repeated the action. He saw the blade slice his arm 3 more times before he pressed harder, the resulting cut deeper. He laughed bitterly, moving his wrist to see how deep it was. 

—————————————————

He woke again, slower this time, with tears staining his face and a cry of… anger or sadness he thought threatening to tear past his lips. He put a hand against his thin lips to keep himself quiet. More tears fell to the side of his face, Nagini not waking as he sobbed slightly, surprising himself. He had to get Harry out of that house, out of the muggles abuse and away from Dumbledore’s control, because the man was obviously doing little to protect his ‘Golden-Boy’. He took a shaky breath in before gently moving Nagini so he could shower. He refused to sleep again until he knew how to help Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it wasn't to graphic to be enjoyed!! I promise it's gonna get happier soonish. And Volde will come to terms with his feelings properly, rather than making excuses! :P


	3. Out of the Frying Pan...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape is told, and works fast. But is he fast enough?

The next day held another boring meeting, this time only with his Inner Circle. Still uneventful, with nothing note worthy happening or to happen. It was only because of Nagini’s well-timed head butts to his hand that he was even able to keep his eyes open and somehow _not_ look tired. 

True to his own promise, he hadn’t sleep again the night before, but hadn’t been able to come up with a way to save, or at least help, Harry without knowing the wards that were around his place of residence. At least until he spotted Severus. After Avery had given his report, he dismissed them.

“Severus! Stay behind, I must speak with you.” 

The man in question stopped moving and settled back in his chair. Bellatrix looked up at him confused. “Go, Bella.” She bowed and left the meeting hall. 

“My Lord?” He didn’t answer, trying to find the words to explain himself without having to see the horrors he’d experienced.

“What do you require of me?” Severus questioned again.

“I need to you find Harry Potter and bring him to me.” The black-clad man’s magic jump slightly in shock before he reigned it back in.

“Before the start of term, if possible, " Voldemort continued.

“Of course my Lord, but why, if I may know?” He stared at him cautiously, as if expecting to be killed or cursed. Which wasn’t far out of the question, admittedly, as Snape didn’t really need to know. 

“If he is to be killed or in danger otherwise, I will need to find a way to reverse or nullify my vows.” Voldemort sighed. Of course there were vows, there are always bloody _vows_.

“And what vows did you swear, Severus?” He asked, frustration at both Dumbledore and him bleeding through into his sentence.

“I vowed to his mother’s grave that I would protect him from harm, and Dumbledore believes the vow to be to him. He will use it against me if I am to find him.” 

A weight lifted from his shoulders. He opened his mouth to speak but, once again, couldn’t find the words to explain what he’d seen the night before.

“I can assure you, I have no intent to kill him. Not anymore.” He saw Severus fail to hide his confusion as he struggled to find words _yet again_. He wished desperately for _that_ to stop. 

“It will be easier if I showed you. Follow me.” He swept from the room, trusting that Severus would follow him. He made his way to his office and, upon entering the room, waved his hand at one of the bookshelves and waited beside the Pensive. Severus walked in only moments later.

“I must warn you, Severus. This is not at all pretty. I was subject to this last night as though it was a dream, similar to how Harry experienced my own manipulations.” The man nodded. Voldemort put his wand against his head and retrieved the stomach-turning memory, placing it carefully in water. He motioned to the man to watch it while avoiding the memory himself like it were Death himself. 

When he resurfaced, he looked heavily disturbed and very pale.

“We have to get him away from them. I had no idea he was being forced to live with Petunia.” Severus had obviously decided to forgo any guards to his expression, his face visibly contorting in disgust and hate. Voldemort’s anger flared, making said anger _very_ obvious to the man in front of him. He didn’t seem to notice. 

“She’s Lily’s sister. She’s a horrid twig of a woman with barely any sense of kindness or respect and far to much jealousy than what is healthy. She used to bully Lily and I when we were children. Trust me when I say her husband is even worse.” Severus was now in the verge of snarling, but his own anger had fizzled out. He spread his magic out, attempting to calm the man so he could give the orders he needed to.

The act wasn’t as effective as he wished, but it at least prompted the man to take a breath and listen. “You wouldn’t happen to remember where they live, would you?” Voldemort needed to test something. There was almost no way the old coot cared enough to put a Fidelius around that house if he was fine with his Golden Boy being abused, but he couldn’t ever be certain with that man.

“Yes, I heard her mention it once when Petunia had turned 18. 4 Privet Drive or some-” He stopped short, eyes wide and concern written all over his face.

"There’s no Fidelius…” Voldemort shut his eyes he took a deep breath. 

“Albus has left him in an abusive house. I’m not surprised.” Severus nodded, “Severus, I want you to go and collect him. I will not have him in that situation. Take what ever means necessary that will _not_ make Dumbledore suspect anything beyond the boy running off.”

The man straightened “Of course, my Lord. Before Hogwarts returns?” 

Voldemort nodded.

“He does not trust me very much, I’m afraid. I may have to subdue him to get him to come with me." Severus said almost to himself.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. “You may find it easier than you think. I know, in my case, I would have been very happy to go with any I knew wouldn’t hurt me to get away from my situation.” 

Severus’s eyebrows furrowed minutely but he didn’t say anything. “Just ensure you don’t appear to imposing, or at least no more than he might already think you are.” 

“Yes, my Lord. I shall ensure I collect him as soon as possible.” He stood and left the Dark Lord’s office. Once Voldemort felt Severus disapparate to where ever he was staying, he deflated. It was going to be hard to get the boy to trust him, let alone open up and have a chance to heal at all…

<>—<>—<>—<>—<>—Harry’s PoV, during the meeting—<>—<>—<>—<>—<>

Harry awoke with a start to his aunt’s piercing voice and rapping at the door.

“GET UP! Come on, boy, up! Vernon and Dudley cannot be late today!” He got up slowly , his aching legs not aiding his movements. He moved as fast as he could with out falling or ripping open the barely healed cuts from last night. He changed into the rags he was forced to call clothes and waited at the door for the locks to open. They locks clicked open and, unfortunately, he didn’t duck in time to get out of the way of his Aunt’s hand. 

“Do NOT mess up breakfast! Not on the day of my Dudley’s big match!” The high pitch of Petunia’s voice made him cringe.

“Yes, Aunt Petunia.” Dudley, unsurprisingly, had become one of the best boxers in Smelting’s Academy, in the heavyweight category of course. He had been moving up in the ladder and had made it to the school final, which could get him into the teens’ state league if he won. And of course, if he didn’t, Harry would be blamed immediately. 

His stomach growled as he smelt the bacon, and he wish he could eat some of it. It was at that moment that Dudley came down the stairs. He looked at him, and Dudley had a expression he’d never seen on him before. It took him a few quick seconds to realize what it was, and his heart dropped slightly. Petunia wasn’t here, and Vernon wasn’t up. As he moved past Harry, he silently put another strip of bacon on the skillet and gave him a look. Harry nodded and smiled. 

“I know, sorta.” Dudley said gruffly, “I’m sorry. For all of it.” Harry hummed, feeling very confused. Petunia walked back in and Harry, as normal, kept his head down. She didn’t notice when he took the extra piece of bacon Dudley had put on, nor when Dudley flinched after Vernon complained his coffee wasn’t right and slapped him, leaving him with a bloody nose. Dudley looked over at him with uncharacteristically apologetic eyes as he walked out the door with is gloves over his shoulder. Not even a minutes later, Petunia’s screechy voice called out from the laundry.

“Get out there and fix the garden! If I find a _single_ weed left or flower bed unwatered or out of place, you’ll be sorry!” He spoke his constant reply numbly and trudged outside into the heat. He’d had barely any water, and hardly anything that could be called breakfast. Though, as much as he gripped about it to himself, he was used to it after so many years of doing it and settled into a rhythm. Pull out the weeds, clean up the grass at the edge of the bed, ruffle the leaves, straighten the flowers, move on to the next one.

He did this for around 2 hours before he felt himself getting dizzy. He had it down to an art how long he could wait for water before he passed out, so he knocked on the kitchen window. Petunia looked up from the sink, unfazed, then moved outside with a small glass of water. She opened the front door, handed him the glass, then inspected all of the work he’d done as he wobbled his way to the hose to water the flowers. 

“What is this?” She pointed to the pathway. He turned and looked down at where she was pointing. He’d hoped he’d get away with not fixing that…

“I'm sorry, Aunt Petunia… I didn’t see them.” He allowed himself to sway a little, hoping she’d take pity on him. 

She gave him a poisonous look beforeturning away. “Just get it done boy! ” 

She shut the front door without telling him whether he’d get any more food that day. He sighed, walked back over to the path and got back onto his hands and knees to pull out the weeds in between the paving to the back gate. He'd only worked for about 30 minutes before that was done, having finally gotten to the watering. Before he could get up though, he heard a crack. He jumped and looked up. 

“Professor? What are you doing here?” Snape looked down at him. There was something different in his eyes though, not the hate or disgust he was used to seeing.

“I’ve been sent here to remove you from your relatives. You are wanted elsewhere.” Harry let out a relieved sigh and got up from where he’d been kneeling. He nearly collapsed though, his vision swimming and legs barely holding him upright. He found out quickly that they weren’t really holding him at all, rather, that Snape was. Great… that _totally_ wasn’t humiliating.

“How long have you been out here, Potter? Did it not occur to you that heat and physical labor are _not_ a good combination?” Harry glared, and the git deflated.

“Can you stand now?” He nodded, “Good, go and gather you belongings.” He walked carefully, and wobbly, to the front door and knocked. Petunia was over there fast.

“There is no way you’ve finished, boy! Go and finish your-” Snape’s appearance infant of her stopped her triad. “ _YOU_ have _NO_ place here, freak!” Snape calmly raised a hand, shutting her up in her shock.

“I am here to remove Potter.”

“You’ll do no such thing! Dumbledore said, if he needed to be moved, he’d do it himself.” While they were arguing, Harry slipped past her and made his way up the stairs. He closed the door behind him out of habit and lifted up the loose floor board near his bed. He quickly grabbed the bits of parchment, empty ink well, nearly destroyed quill and the last of the food Ron had sent him, as well a the ball of tissue that held his only method of coping with everything that had and was currently happening. He stared at it and opened it slowly. Maybe he could get just one in before Snape came in.

“You don’t need to,” he jolted, droppingthe razor in surprise. 

When the hell had Snape come in? He felt a hand on his shoulder as tears welled up in his eyes. “I’m getting you out of here, Harry. I promise.” He looked up at the uncharacteristically kind eyes.

“Where would I go that’s safe? With the Order, I’ll just get more people hurt. At Hogwarts, he’ll be able to find me, and with you -if that’s even an option- I’ll get you killed. I should just stay here… I- I deserve it…” The ‘I deserve it’ hung in the air as his tears fell.

Snape crouched down before speaking in a soft tone, “There is a lot you don’t know and haven’t been told about this war. I wasn’t sent here by Albus, but I didn’t come here of my own volition either.” Harry paled a little, knowing who must have sent him now. “I can’t tell you who sent me, regardless of the fact that you may know anyway, but I can promise you’ll be safer there than you ever were here.” 

Harry gulped. Was he telling the truth? Surely Voldemort would kill him, or at least imprison him. There no way it could be any better! Then again, maybe Voldemort would just… leave him alone, or… No he didn’t want to think about _that_ option. Still though… He sighed, having made up his mind. He spoke after what was maybe a few minutes of flooding in his own brain.

“My trunk, wand and cloak are in my old room.” He realised his old ‘room’ would not exactly be an easy thing to guess. “Uh… the cupboard under the stairs…” Snape look angry for a moment before his face calmed and he touched his shoulder again.

“Alright, I’ll go and get them. Meet me outside so I can apparate you to where we’re going.” He nodded and stuffed the objects he’d hidden under the floorboard into the too-big pockets of the rags he wore. He might finally be safe, or at least safer, but he just… couldn’t feel anything. Maybe it would come later, when he knew the Dark Lord’s intention for getting him. He sighed, not wanting to think about it anymore.

He went to stand, but found he nearly couldn’t, and ended up pushing himself up with his bed. He put a hand on the wall and made his way out of his room. The walls twisted and warped as he kept going. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, hearing Snape and Petunia arguing about him leaving and straightened himself out. Gripping the railing like it would disappear like his vision was, and trudged down the stairs slowly so he didn’t trip, opened the door and walked out closing the door behind himself. He smiled knowing that he would never have to return before he collapsed, barely hearing Snape opening the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it, y'all! I decided to include my headcannon that Dudley was, eventually, verbally abused by Vernon during the times Harry wasn't there for a reason that I'll explain later. But poor Harry, amiright?
> 
> (UPDATE 20-6-18: Edited for readability. Thank you, beta!! :D)


	4. …and into the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry faints, and is rushed back to Voldemort'd headquarters. Discoveries are made, and conversations had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'VE RETURNED!! Year 12 is over, and ive finished school, so i can finally focus more on writing!!

Snape ran to the boy halfway down the driveway. He’d silenced the woman temporarily and altered her memories to ensure he kept his status safe, as well as broke the look on the cupboard door, making it look like the boy had run away in a fit of anger. Trunk safely in his pocket, he walked back to the kitchen to put the woman to sleep. Without the use of his wand, he knew his signature would not be picked up; it would look like accidental magic or the boy having had enough of the argument and put her to sleep, especially if she was left on the floor.

He’d been walking past the window when he saw the boy stagger slightly. He’d made for the door quickly, only watch Harry collapse as he opened it. This was not good. He had checked his pulse, fast but weak, before gathering the far-too-thin boy into his arms and appearing so he knew if he would do more damage to him. He landed in the foyer of his Lord’s manor and ran towards the larger sitting room.

“My Lord! Call a healer!”

  
<>—<>—<>—<>—<>—LV PoV, before SS arrival—<>—<>—<>—<>—<>

  
Lucius had finally made some progress with his task. He had no idea how hard it was going to be to convince another Unspeakable to join their cause after Rockwood had lost his job, but somehow Lucius had managed. He could only hope bribery wasn’t involved; leading with fear was not effective, however much he may loath to admit that.

The entire exchange between them had prompted the beginnings of a migraine, and the offhanded mention that the Unspeakable was only an apprentice for now had promoted said migraine’s stay. He’d dismissed him soon after out of his own frustration and some semblance of pity towards the nervous sounding man.

He waved a hand to put out the lights and stood to retrieve a headache potion, so he could at least work, only to have the world spin. He gripped the edge of the desk and shut his eyes. He was very unused to being dizzy during a migraine but supposed it could be possible. It was only when he felt a disjointed in his side that he realized this pain wasn’t his. He sighed, hoping Severus got to the boy soon.

After stumbling his way to his potion storage, somehow managing to avoid the few Death Eaters in the house and downed a headache potion. The pain went down on his part, but Harry’s dizziness still bled through their strange connection. He blamed the migraine for the weakened Occlumency shields. One hand on the wall, he walked back to his office, eager to leave the bright lights in the hall.

The dizziness got worse the more he walked, slowing him down considerably, but he made it to his office eventually. He sat at his desk and rested his head on his arms, silently hoping the boy would be okay as Nagini made her way onto his desk to rest her cooler body against him.

His stomach lurched suddenly. The world spun madly. He felt faint for 10 long seconds, struggling to hold the contents of his stomach down before the spinning feeling stopped. He still didn’t move as the migraine that still rattled through his head continued make him nauseous, but that stopped when he heard the crack of fast Apparition and Severus yelling from the main sitting room to call a healer.

The faintness and dizziness suddenly made sense. He ignored it. He bolted down the stair. Seeing nothing in the sitting room, he ran through the doors leading to guest rooms. There he found the Potion Master’s quarters with the door slightly opened. He pushed it open, so he could enter and help where he could.

His mouth went dry as he saw the thin, pale boy laying on the bed. He didn’t look alive, but he could feel his magic. There were bruises, scars and cuts all over him, and the over-sized clothing on him look more like patterned bags than clothes. Shaking himself out of his stupor, he forced himself to move. He went to the fireplace and floo’d for Narcissa before Saint Mungo’s.

“We have pulled Potter from his house. He's severely injured and has been systematically abused. Be fast. Ensure you bring more than you think you need; we haven’t run a test yet.” Narcissa looked calm, yet not. She nodded her assent.

“Floo Saint Mungo’s, my Lord. I cannot part with my work right now. I’ll be at least 20 minutes. Ask for healer Etralyn. She is dark and in hiding. Do not call your personal healer until the crisis is averted.”

“Alright. Severus is already working on what he can see.”

“Good. Now, go call her.” Voldemort nodded and ended the call. He reopened the floo and talked to Saint Mungo’s, ensuring Harry’s name wasn’t mentioned to the receptionist healer Etralyn exiting as soon as she was told what had happened. She immediately got to work, running a diagnostic charm and thank Severus for starting Harry’s healing. Voldemort stood there, feeling ever so slightly useless.

“What else can I do?” Etralyn look at him, concern on her face. She very quickly assessed his power before looking back at the diagnostic. He moved to read it, but his hand was slapped away.

“Keep him stable. His core is far too large for me to hold onto. Be careful, he’s lashing out.”

“I’ll let you know if he slips.” He said, knowing their connection may be mentioned on the long parchment. She nodded.

Deciding against using his wand, he instead reached out with his magic and mind to monitor him. After finding Harry’s core with his own, he sat on a chair next to him and delved into his mind to grab onto whatever he could to keep Harry alive. He was almost immediately forced away as a wave of powerful magic pushed back. He pulled back, if only for the boy’s safety. Lashing out like that too much could drain his magical core fast.

He tried a different approach, trying to stabilize the fragile looking boy with their strange connection first. This was, thankfully, far easier, but it felt different than the times before. Weaker and harder to grasp. Like the boy had managed to weaken it, or someone else had. Or it was part of the unconsciousness. He decided he’d worry about that aspect of it later and ‘grabbed’ the thin tether that was left.

“How is he?” Concern was thick in her voice, though it sounded distant to him.

“Barely holding on, but he is alive.”

“Do you have his core under control?” He didn’t answer, far too busy concentrating so he could do just that.

Through the connection, he felt for some form of Occlumency shield, known or not. He needed to find a way to get to the boy’s core without harming himself or Harry. He found one fast and reached out with his magic to either smother or calm his core, depending on how his magic took to the intrusion. Harry’s magic didn’t move an inch, actually relaxing, but something around it moved. When nothing else happened, he dismissed it, assuming Dumbledore had put some form of protection there.

Now calmed, his magic suddenly shut their connection in an effort to keep the familiar entity from hurting Harry further. He didn’t try to open it again. He had his magic, that’s all he needed.

“Okay, I’ve got a hold of him.”

“Good.” And with that she got to work. He moved to the side, sitting on the bed out of the way while Etralyn and Severus began quickly trying to heal Harry. At some point Narcissa entered, Draco trailing her before being told to move out of the way or leave. He ended up stiffly sitting next to him, as if he were going to bite him.

Though he was aware of everything around him, his focus was on keeping Harry alive and calm.

Something gripped his magic, something that wasn’t Harry. He smothered it easily, but quickly realized his mistake. All he could feel now was Albus Dumbledore’s magic and it was siphoning away Harry’s own magic fast. Possibly faster.

“He has a magical blocker. It’s siphoning his magic and giving it to Dumbledore from what I can tell. Be fast. Please.” He didn’t hear the answer as he worked to try and stop Harry losing magic or remove the blocker entirely.

He didn’t have much time, he knew, so, against his better judgement, he used his own magic to hit the blocker, but the thing barely budged. He noticed that Harry had jerked when he’d done that, however. Offence was now out of the question. He had to neutralize it.

“Okay, beyond his magic, he’s as stable as we can make him.” Voldemort nodded, knowing now he had a little more freedom in his methods.

He absently grabbed the boy’s hand. In doing so, he felt their connection open back up. He shut his eyes again and carefully entered the boy’s mind. He had expected to see a hall way of doors, many with locks and few bared shut entirely, but all he could see was nothing. Nothing, save for two figures a small way ahead of him.

One was Harry, of course, his body floating in the void as if asleep, curled around a small dark ball. The other was an inhuman shadow, wings covering Harry and what could be assumed was part of his soul as Dumbledore’s magic attacked them. Obviously when he had opened the connection so close, the magical binding had discovered the threat. Perhaps that was why it hurt the boy to be so close.

Knowing there was little else he could do until Harry was healthy enough to get to Gringotts, he began to push his magic into that part of his soul, effectively helping the figure protect Harry’s mind, soul and magic.

Dumbledore’s magic finally retreated slightly, his soul piece flaring in sudden power, and the figure turned to him.

Its eyes were visible, though it only appeared to be a silhouette, and slitted, viper-like pupils took him in where his presence hovered. After a moment of thought, it moved out of the way, moving its wing so he could use his magic and will to move Dumbledore’s magic as far away as he could. As soon as he had, though, the figure threw him out, causing him to black out for a little while.

“Thank you, Tom. You have done well to help him, ensure you keep doing so. I may not exist in your world, but the Harry I know personally would be very pleased to hear you helped him.” The smooth, deep voice spoke softly, though it startled him into moving from his unconscious state.

“My name is Lucifer, the lord and creator of magic in my world, and I am forever indebted to you for the knowledge you have given me on Dumbledore’s blocker. Should you need me, call for me and I shall come.” That was last thing he heard.

Blinking a few times to regain his bearings, he looked up at the others in the room. Draco had moved out of the chair, a few slight magical burns across his arm from his own magic lashing out during its exertion.

“He’ll be fine for now. I was able to push back the blocker as much as was possible.” Everyone seemed to relax. In a somewhat tired mumble, the group decided they’d wait until later to discuss everything so that Harry and he could rest. Etralyn had to head back to Saint Mungo’s but told Narcissa to call her if anything got out of hand. Narcissa stayed behind, telling Draco and Severus to wait outside.

“May I ask what you did that cause your magic to lash out like that, my lord?” She inquired carefully, obviously unsure of how he’d react.

“I had to use a lot of magic and will to move the blocker back far enough, so to speak.” He replied tiredly. He didn’t tell her of the figure he’d seen. He likely wouldn’t believe her.

“I can tell there is something more, believe me,” She had arched an eyebrow at him and was looking him over, possibly checking for injuries of his own. “But I know better than to press. At least inform Severus of everything, for Merlin’s sake.”

He nods, glaring tiredly at the mother hen currently hovering over him. She parroted his expression and exited the room. Severus entered soon after. He stayed quiet, barely acknowledging the man’s presence until he had decided he could somewhat trust the man with what he had to say.

“How didn’t I know? How could I not realize what he holds, Severus? How could I have ignored the signs for so long?”

“My lord?” Voldemort gestured at him to sit in the chair across the room, and he did so without further question.

“First, I must ask for your secrecy. You cannot breathe even half a word of this to Dumbledore.” The potions’ master nodded, easily taking a vow to secrecy pledged upon his life.

“Harry, along with numerous other vessels, holds a piece of my soul and the key to my own immortality. Though I am not sure how, he must have gain said piece when the Killing Curse hit me. Perhaps the vessels weaken my own soul, but without them, I would be dead, and our cause lost.” Severus looked slightly taken, yet relieved.

“Of course, but why take the boy then? To keep him prisoner? I must admit myself confused; I didn’t believe you cared for the boy, my Lord.”

“Would you rather him left there? To suffer unjustly at the hands of muggles? I would rather him somewhere that allowed me to… protect my own soul.” Severus nodded. “Beyond that, having part of my soul with him has, I admit, slightly altered my feelings towards him. I cannot risk myself and, by extension, my soul and him. He must remain unharmed.”

“Of course, my lord.” Severus bowed his head slightly before turning back to the boy. “I feel that Albus my have something to do with my own blindness to his abuse. He has never really cared for Harry.”

“While I agree, Severus, you should have known by now the he cannot be trusted. However little, we are both at least somewhat to blame for this” He said solemnly. “The most we can do now is ensure it will not happen again. I will endeavor to gain his trust so that he willingly remains here. If I imprison him, there is a higher chance he not only escapes, but alerts the Light’s forces.  
“If He stays willingly, however, we will not only be able to better protect and heal him but turn the war to our favor.” Voldemort sighed and shut his eyes, “You are dismissed for now, Severus. We shall discuss this further tomorrow when we are both rested.”

“Yes, my Lord.” The man rose and lightly smoothed down the pale boy’s hair before bowing and leaving. No doubt Narcissa would stop him to discuss what potions the boy would need going forward. As he stared Harry, he wondered truly on Severus’s question. Why had he saved the boy? To keep him and use him as a weapon? To gain his trust and truly turn the war in their favor? Or did he only save him because he saw something of a version of himself? He knew the really answer, but he refused to admit it. Harry was barely a young man, it was not right to feel such things. He shook his head. He was too exhausted to ponder such things.

He sank further into the chair, reluctant to move back to his room. He could hear the quiet mumble between Severus and Narcissa just beyond the door and finally took a moment to shut his eyes, truly clear his head. He was asleep almost as soon as they close, slumped in an uncomfortable chair, the figure’s words still singing in his head and Harry’s hand still in his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!! i shall try and update this a little more often, i promise!! the next chapter will be fun >:3


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